Chris Darlington

The Jumper

The Jumper So much can be told by this old picture of me wearing a given jumper.Hidden among its well-worn fabric and faded colours and patterns.The hint of perfume my sister had borrowed to impress a new boyfriend Some days I feel the jumper’s warmth around me like a cocoon even nowLike a family hug I longed for but never received.I could tell the jumpers real shape after it had been worn by my sister.I cried long in to the night in the cold bed and felt ashamed Because of having to wear girl’s clothes in public.These hand-me-down memories linger inside meIt was the last time I was ever close to my older sisterWho now probably wears designer knitwear and expensive perfume? Maybe one day she’ll post me a hug in the post, second class of courseIf she did it would probably be second-hand or seem old fashioned or too late now.